the land of almost.
the tiredness overwhelms me today.
i try to push past the blurry eyes.
the pulls of sleep.
i get lost in a book only to awaken
bleary and wondering.
wondering about the characters in the story.
wondering what they say about life.
wondering if any pieces of their lives will be reflected in my own.
hardship happens in everyone's life.
i hope against it for my son.
hope against it for my children.
and yet, i know it will come.
i know it will come, but i know not how.
how will it manifest itself?
how will they fare?
i pray that God would grab ahold of the hearts
of my children.
i pray that they will have eyes to see
and ears to hear.
it will all come soon.
[to quote a wise woman]
the days may seem long
but the years are so short.
far too soon
this will be my reality.
the life of long days and short years.
i will blink and my son will be
running off to kindergarten.
will be getting his driver's license
will be walking the line between
needing his parents
and hating that he needs us.
will be his own person,
out in the world.
forty weeks is nothing.
not compared to a lifetime.
and yet today
it feels long.
it feels impossibly,
i am living in the world of almost.
and i'm not sure if i'm playing
hand grenades or horseshoes.
though even in the midst of it
i know i will look back
one day soon.
and i will wonder where the time went.
i will wonder how i could ever think life
i will barely remember this time
when parenthood was farther than i thought
and yet closer than i could imagine.
i will barely remember a time
when i was not a parent.
when he didn't exist.
i will scarcely remember this time,
in the land of almost.